Unrequited
by risolyandiwys
Summary: A letter addressed to Jane. / One-sided Rizzles. A prequel of sorts.


**Pairing: **Jane/Maura

**Disclaimer:** Rizzoli & Isles belongs to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro, and TNT.

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**Unrequited**

a Rizzoli & Isles fan fiction

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_Dearest Jane,_

I love the feeling of your fingers in my hair when we're on the couch watching a movie and the feeling of your hand hot against my thigh. Your eyes are so dark but they are the brightest I have ever seen. They ground me and I could spend hours staring into them. The way your long dark curls fall over your shoulders and onto your chest makes me want to tangle myself in it, in you. I like watching your face change when you suddenly realize something, watching the dimple in your chin become more pronounced when your excitement and happiness grows and a genuine smile graces your face... but never when you're sad. It's these small things that I can't get over, and I'm beginning to understand what this all means. I wish I could watch your face when you realize all that I have learned.

In my thirty-five years of life, this is probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and it probably always will be. I'm scared of myself. I'm a very logical person, and I don't always trust my emotions, but I hope this feeling isn't wrong because it is so wonderful. I'm angry at myself for being so weak, so emotional when it comes to you. I have always felt so insignificant when compared to you, and I appreciate that you still want to be my friend. Your kindness has always made me feel normal when I know I'm anything but, and for that I am grateful. I don't deserve you.

This isn't what you'll probably think it is, if I know you as well as I think I do. I'm not going to leave. I'm not running away from my problems. I've learned the hard way that I'm not okay unless I am with you. I can't live or breathe without feeling physical pain unless I am with you. You are my constant, my safe harbor. I was so alone and broken without you, and I focused only on the bodies that had the misfortune to end up in the morgue. For a very long time, they were my life, but they could never compare to you. They are not beautiful. They are not holding me together. They do not fix me, make me whole or introduce me to the wonders of life. They do not wrap their arms around me and hold me close when I need the touch of another human being. It's you, and I'm starting to believe that it will always be you.

I love you.

I'm _in_ love with you.

It is so hard for me to admit this. It is not reasonable, hardly even tolerable. You're my best friend and you have been for years, and it isn't right for me to want our friendship to become a romance, is it? I don't think so. But the thing is, I'm okay with this. I'm fine knowing that I'm so in love with you, even though I'm allowing emotions to rule me. I suppose it's because I know you'll never change. You won't give up on nurturing the relationship you share with the man you believe is meant for you, and I've learned to accept that. After all, I can't ask you to leave everything you've ever known and learn to love a woman.

Please don't misunderstand. It isn't easy, loving you the way I do. It hurts so badly sometimes, like there's a hole in my chest that won't close, won't heal, and I'm running out of ways to fill it. Most days it's a dull throb, hardly noticeable when I'm doing my best to speak for the dead. Then again, we all have off-days. The days that make the hole widen, cause the edges to burn because I can't get you off of my mind. I never said it was easy, but most days it's manageable. I'm learning to deal with this pain, though. I promise I am.

That said, most days it's still very difficult for me to resist staring into your eyes and losing myself, to resist telling you how I feel. I know that there isn't actually anything to stop me from doing so, but I'm not willing to ruin what we have. Your friendship is the most important thing in my life, and if I lost it because I was being selfish… well, I don't know what would happen. I don't know what I would become.

So I'm confined to the wings of your life, while other people get to take center stage. I have to stand by and watch while men touch you the way I wish I could, hold your hand and kiss you the way I only do in my dreams. Your soldier tells you he loves you, and it really means something to you. When I speak those same words to you, however, you simply smile and say it back, never grasping that I might mean it in any way other than as your best friend. Because that's all I am to you – a friend, your best friend. Unless hell freezes over and pigs fly, which I know to be impossibilities, that's all I'm ever going to be.

I won't end this with some silly cliché, telling you that I hope you never find this letter, because that isn't true. I honestly want you to know how I feel about you. I want to be completely honest with you, and this might be the only way for you to ever know how I feel about you. I'm too afraid to tell you to your face, so this letter is as good as it gets, and even writing this has been harder than you could ever imagine. It's ironic, isn't it? Looking back at this letter, I must have used the word _I_ in some capacity at least fifty times. However, it's never been about the _I_, the _me_, in our relationship, it's always been about _you_. I just wish I had a chance, even a one-in-a-million, that you felt the same way. You don't, I know, and that's fine. As long as you're happy, I'll find a way to cope. So be happy, and I'll always be here, waiting in the wings, in case you need me.

Whatever happens, I will always love you.

_Always yours, Maura Isles_

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_The end...?_


End file.
